


Everything I Need

by IndianaSolo221



Category: The Conjuring (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Horror, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-01 21:16:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17875001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndianaSolo221/pseuds/IndianaSolo221
Summary: The girl with the visions found the boy who believed in monsters.*This work has been edited to be a short story, therefore, if you are still following it, I suggest you re-read it to be aware of the changes made. Don't worry, most of the extra chapters will be filtered into a one-shots book so that they will still be present and accounted for*





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [godsjupiter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/godsjupiter/gifts).



> Dedicated to @godsjupiter (you know who you are), Ed, for breaking his arm over Bamib, to Ed and Lorraine, Patrick and Vera, and James Wan, for bringing it all together.

The time was 1942. The place was at a little theatre in Connecticut. Lorraine Moran followed Abby, Carla, and Lina to the box office, where a young man was taking money and handing out tickets.

"Four for Bambi, please," Carla muttered, passing the combined change to the teenaged boy. He forgot his usual "Thanks," and "Here you go, I hope you enjoy," as he passed the tickets to her; a change in the demeanor of one of the girls caught his attention.

"What was he staring at?" Carol questioned. She turned to look at whatever the man might've seen, but all she saw was Lorraine's blank expression. "Lorraine...are you okay?" she asked, waving her hand in front of the young psychic. "Well, I don't know about you three, but I'm not missing the film just because Angel Girl here is daydreaming." Carol left, taking Lina with her.

Abby's brow furrowed. "Lorraine...I don't really want to miss the movie, either. You coming?" she questioned, giving Lorraine's right arm a gentle tug.

"Hm?" she muttered. Her pupils went back to their normal size, like a camera coming into focus. "What'd I miss?"

"Carol and Lina are already in the theater, Lorraine! If we don't hurry, we'll miss it!"

Lorraine followed. By the time they'd used the restroom and got seated, the room began to darken. For the first five minutes, the teenaged Lorraine and her friends viewed propaganda for the current war. There was one recording of a famous male actor calling other men to action. Another was shown of various women working in factories as the "Rosie the Riveter" theme played behind them.

Lorraine's father had already joined the war effort. She couldn't help but think of him every time she saw the posters plastered onto the buildings in town. Her mother stayed home to take care of her, and for that she was grateful, but they both missed her father dearly.

"I wish they wouldn't show these before the film," Carol complained. The other three girls paid her no mind. They were all too busy considering the sacrifices their own parents had made for the country that was now involved in war.

The film finally did start, rising whatever moods had been dampened. A calm tune emanated as credits appeared on the screen; for Lorraine, things were not so tranquil. A spark had popped into her mind. A fire was burning that she couldn't stop, and her heart was filled with dread.

The young woman busted out of the theater. Gasps could be heard from the accompanying schoolgirls as she ran through the doors, nearly tripping over her own dress. "Fire," was all she could utter.

There were screams of shock and pain. Men were being mowed down by the fire of the enemies weapons. Lorraine had never seen anything like this before. Tears threatened to spill from her blue gaze. There would be more pain and more death in years to come. She searched for her father in the throng, but did not see him, and relief trickled down her spine. In the back of her mind, she knew she was missing out on something, but she didn't care. The burdens of the world had been spilled upon her shoulders, and she was a helpless, fifteen-year-old girl who could barely hold her own.  
"Are you alright, Miss? You look a little pale-"

A boy was standing in front of her, his face fuzzy and colorful. She could hardly make out his words...they sounded like thunder booming in her ears. The world went black, and she cursed- before falling to the ground, her eyes squeezed shut.

Lorraine woke to feel water splashing her face. Her eyes fluttered open and she pushed the young man who was holding the bucket away. "What are you doing?!" she demanded, wiping her eyes vigorously.

"Something- something I read about in the paper," he admitted, blushing with embarrassment.

She blinked. "I- what happened?"

"You don't remember? You fainted- passed out."

"So what, you thought that giving me a shower would help make it better?"

"Now, wait just a minute," he growled defensively. "You're the one that fainted. Would you have preferred it if I just let you lay there?"

Lorraine taken aback by his words. She glanced around to see that none of her friends had left the showroom; no one had even stopped to see if she was okay. "Well- I- I don't know what to say."

"An apology would suffice," he replied, taking her hand.

For a second, something blocked Lorraine's vision. An object had been placed on her head, and she lifted her hand to feel a rough, white veil. She gazed down at a puffy, white sleeves and an equally white dress that touched the floor. You'll be a beautiful bride, her mother chimed.

Upon gaining her balance, Miss Moran jerked her palm away from the young man's soothing grasp. "Are you sure you're alright?" he'd asked.

"I'm okay, thank you. I believe I should go finish the movie now, goodbye-"

"Wait, aren't you at least going to tell me your name?"

She paused. "I'm Lorraine. Lorraine Moran."

"I'm Edward- Ed. My name is Edward, but my friends call me Ed."

"That's a strong name," she responded, attempting to make conversation.

"I'm sorry that I got you all wet, and that I startled you. I was only trying to help."

She smiled. "It's okay, Ed. I'm glad that someone was here to retrieve me."

He backed away, giving her some space. "Well...I'd better get going," he said. "If my boss finds out that I stopped working, he'll have my hide. I'm sure I'll see you around, Lorraine." He'd said, waving goodbye.

Lorraine sighed. She stumbled back into the crowded theater, ignoring the agitated groans of the people sitting behind her. "What did I miss?" she asked in a whisper.

Abby was the first to respond. "Not much. Bambi's made friends with a cute little bunny called Thumper and a skunk called," she chuckled, "Flower."  
Lorraine glanced up at the screen. A little doe was prancing around an equally small buck; she licked his cheek, and he blushed sweetly.


	2. 2

A week later, Lorraine found herself standing behind a table decorated with pitchers of lemonade and plates of cookies. It was a busy day for the Church, and Miss Moran rushed to each task as if her life depended on it.

Her mother was not far behind. She was helping to organize the Church's yard sale, a local event in which all the members of their Church could bring their old nik naks, furniture, clothes and accessories to be sold for a low price to someone who needed it more. The funds would go towards the needs of the Church, which currently included fixing an expensive, stained-glass window that was broken in the last storm.

"Here you go, Miss Pickard. Thanks for helping us out!" she chimed, watching as the young brunette sipped a glass of fresh lemonade.

"Lorraine, I need you to help me with rest of these cookies, dear," her mother called. Her arms were wrapped around a stack of containers in which new batches of oatmeal cookies had been placed.

Lorraine dashed to her mother's side, taking one of the containers. She set it on the table neatly and opened the container; in front of her, little Susie Wilkins was staring at the fresh batch.

"Momma, I want a cookie," she pleaded, tugging on her mother's skirts.

Her mother grimaced. She wouldn't look directly at Lorraine or anyone else for that matter, but Miss Moran could hear her say, "I'm sorry, dear, we don't have the money."

A pang of pity struck Lorraine hard. She already knew that the Wilkins family was going poor, but she hadn't thought it could be that bad. The young clairvoyant had wanted so desperately to help Mrs. Wilkins, and Susie, but there were some things that even she couldn't forsee.

A few months prior, Susie's father had joined the war effort. After a week in the army, two men came to Mrs. Wilkin's door; her husband had gone MIA, missing in action, and there was little hope that he would be found. Since then, Mrs. Wilkins had took a job at one of the local factories in order to feed her family.

"Susie," she spoke, in a louder tone than she meant.

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"I'd like to give you a free cookie, just for being here today," Lorraine said, smiling.

"But- but what about everybody else?" she asked, hugging her Raggedy-Anne closer to her chest.

Lorraine's gaze drifted to the people around her. Only Susie's mother had taken noticed of the situation. "I doubt anyone's going to complain about you getting a free cookie. And if they do, you just send them to me."

Susie smiled. "Thank you, Miss Lorraine."

"You're welcome, dear." Lorraine started to walk back to her mother when she felt a hand touch her shoulder. She turned to catch a somber gaze in Mrs. Wilkin's eyes.

"Thank you, girl. It means the world to her," she paused. "If you ever need anything, just come to me. I'll be glad to help."

Lorraine tilted her head to one side. Her eyes brightened and her lips relaxed as she watched Mrs. Wilkins walk away. Then, just when she thought she'd seen the most beautiful thing in the world, she saw Susie pass the cookie to her mother. "I want you to have it."

The clairvoyant's eyes squeezed shut. She cried silently to herself. Why do you have to go and be so sensitive? she asked herself. Lorraine tried blaming all her tears on the war and her teenage hormones, but something else had been raging inside her for four years, and it had become a burden that she feared she could not cope with.

"Lorraine? Lorraine Moran?" a voice questioned.

Lorraine glanced up at the familiar voice. "Ed?"

"Hey, why the long face?" he'd asked.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just- personal things," she muttered, folding her hands in her lap neatly.

"Sure you don't want to talk about it? I've been told I'm a good listener."

"I don't think that's a good idea," she admitted, pulling away from him.

"Look, I know you hardly know me, but maybe it's better that way. After all, I can't be biased toward you, and you can be biased toward me, either. I'm sure it's nothing too big for me. I've heard some stories."

She grinned, despite her red, puffy eyes. "Why do we keep meeting like this?" she asked.

"I don't know, but I'm sure God knows."

She stiffened. "I don't see you around the church much."

"I- I don't want to make excuses, but my father- I have myself, my mother, and my two sisters to support. I just- haven't had time for it, lately," he paused. "To be honest, my father was never much of a church goer. He went only when mother pleaded with him. She takes the girls, but I stopped coming a long time ago."

"That's a shame," Lorraine stated, meaning it wholeheartedly. "We could really use a worker like you."

"You don't even know how I work, Lorraine Moran."

"I wish you'd just call me Lorraine," she said, ignoring his statement.

"Lorraine it is."

The tone of his voice amused Lorraine, and she caught herself chuckling at him. His eyes widened and his mouth hung open in a joking fashion, similar to that of a cartoon character. Lorraine could hear her father saying, "You'd better shut that fly trap, girl, or your face will be stuck like that."

"What's so funny?" he asked, his voice edged with concern.

"You, Ed. You're funny. I'd be tempted to say that you're the most humorous person I've ever met."

He puffed up his chest proudly. He uttered a joke that he recalled from the paper; Lorraine had already read it, but laughed anyways. The two chatted on until Lorraine's mother came to get her, telling her that there had been an accident and one of the girls had dropped a whole plate of cookies.

"Sorry, Ed, I've gotta go help with cleanup. I'll see you around."

"Wait!" he'd yelled, grabbing her arm. Mrs. Moran huffed disapprovingly. "Uh, sorry," he stuttered. "I just thought I might ask..." his gaze drifted to Mrs. Moran. "I'd like to take Lorraine to lunch sometime, with your permission...and hers."


	3. 3

Mrs. Moran allowed Lorraine to go with Ed to a little soda shop not far from the theater. Lorraine didn't have many friends of the opposite sex, and she'd never went out with a boy by herself, yet Mrs. Moran had confidence that the area was well populated and that the two would have no opportunity to create any sort of mischief.

They walked to the restaurant from school on a warm Wednesday evening. Ed had dressed in a suit, and Lorraine was embarrassed that she'd dressed rather casually. He teased her about it for a short period, then let up, understanding that she was serious about her appearance.

The soda shop was connected to a strip of stores that sat across from the theater. These included a vinyl and radio store called by the name of Don's, a dress shop called, "Laney's Dress and Shoes," and a discount market where women could go to buy cheap, easily-cooked meals.

As they took the crosswalk to the opposite side of the street, Lorraine couldn't help but remember Carla's continuous chatter about her new dress. She could go on all day talking about the new accessories, the clairvoyant mused.

"I saw what you did at the bake sale yesterday," Ed started. Her thoughts were interrupted by the squeak of the chair as he pulled it away from the table, allowing his companion to sit.

"Thank you," she chimed, blushing. "You mean, with Susie?" she asked, picking up the paper menu.

"Yeah. That was really sweet of you. Everyone knows her family's been going through a rough time; heck, we all have. It just felt right to see someone reach out to them and give them something, even if it was just a cookie."

Lorraine grinned, unsure of how to react to his praise. Still, something inside her was unsatisfied. "I know the Church is going through it, too, but I wish there was something better we could do for Mrs. Wilkins, and the rest of the families, for that matter."

"Lorraine Moran, the girl who tried to help everyone," Ed muttered at one point.

They ordered two cheeseburgers, a small batch of fries, and chocolate milkshakes. Lorraine was as graceful as ever, and was doing her best not to smear ketchup all over her face. Ed also tried to maintain a similar grace to that of his new friend; he failed miserably and squirted mayonnaise out of his burger on the first bite.

Lorraine giggled. "Someone's on target this afternoon," she teased, pointing out where the condiment had landed on the table in a white splat.

He swallowed and uttered an apology. Miss Moran merely cleaned the spot from the table, trying not to blush in the process.

"You're crazy, Ed Warren," she'd said, taking a sip of her milkshake. She watched every move he made, suddenly feeling that she could see into the depths of his soul. The young clairvoyant wasn't sure why he'd made friends with her; she supposed that only God could know that.

It wasn't long before the two had finished their meal. Ed stood, excusing himself to the men's room nervously, pondering the current situation. Sweat poured down the young man's face. The thought of her soft brunette hair was making his heart thump. Was this what it felt like to be in love? Ed could only imagine a cartoon character with his heart literally pumping out of his chest; three years from now he would use this analogy to describe his love for Lorraine.

Meanwhile, dearest Lorraine Moran was glancing down at her folded hands. She was always catching herself picking at her fingernails...Cut it out, Lorraine, you're in public, her mother would've told her.

Unfortunately for the two lovestruck teens, they'd picked the same diner that Bobby Murdock and Ricky Mahoney frequented on the weekdays. The two juvenile delinquents had a habit of picking on the other teenagers, often for the mere adrenaline of fighting until one of them was knocked bloody and taken to the courthouse.

No one could have been sure of anything that went on between the boy's brains, or even if they had any brains at all. In a single second, something had possessed ole' Bobby Murdock and he'd decided that it would be a pleasant idea to tease Lorraine Warren.

"Look at that, Bobby," Rick had said, pointing rudely at Lorraine. "That's fair game, right there," he was speaking for all to hear; if the adults noticed, they ignored him.

"Aw, Rick, you know you can't have that one," he said, slapping the other boy's hand. "She's the kook o' the town, remember?" he asked, keying Ricky in on the joke.

"Aw, yeah, she's the one that sees angels. I've even heard the other girls say that she sees the future," he gawked, "like a walking time machine!"

"Hey, lady, can you tell me my future? Read my palm?" he asked, extending a hand to her.

She huffed. "I'm not a time machine. I can't always see the future, and I've no clue how to read palms," she replied, crossing her arms. Their presence was making her uncomfortable, though, and she was afraid that she wouldn't be able to hide it for long. C'mon, Ed, where are you?

Bobby didn't take kindly to the clairvoyant's refusal to acknowledge him, and jerked her up by the hand. She yelped, pulling away from him, before Ed flung himself at the other boy, grabbing him by the throat.

His grasp on Lorraine loosened. "Ed, let him go!"

Ed was still holding on. His nails bored into skin of Bobby Murdock's neck, the boy sputtered but couldn't speak.

"Ed! Drop him. He's not worth it," she ordered, and Ed's eyes came back into focus. He dropped ole' Murdock on the floor; the boy gasped for air before whining about how Ed Warren had almost killed him.

"I want you outta my diner, now," someone demanded, presumably the one called Joe.

"But, sir, he-"

"I don't want excuses, I just want you all outta this diner before I have to call your parents for you."

Ed and Lorraine paid and left. Both the teens wanted to get as far away from the boys as possible, even if Ed did almost choke him to death.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Lorraine," he'd told her, with all the sincerity in the world.

"It's okay. It's not Bobby's fault, anyways. The war is taking a toll on everyone, even him."

"How- how do you know that?"

"I- I don't want to talk about it."

There was a long, awkward pause before Ed continued. "I don't understand fighting. War is horrible. I would never want to be the one to start it, so I can't imagine what goes on in their minds."

Silence pursued them again.

"Ed, do you believe in demons?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Sometimes I think demons are used to wage war on this earth...sometimes...I believe that it's through no fault of their own that any human being starts a war."  
The two were silent as he walked her home. Later, as he stood on her mother's porch, he told her that he wanted to keep seeing her, if it was okay with her.

"Yeah," she said, "I'd like that."


	4. 4

Lorraine's head hit the desk with such force that her classmates flinched in response.

They sent her to the nurse. She explained that she hadn't slept well for the past week. They asked her about going ons, including personal hygiene, how often she ate, and when her last menstrual cycle had been.

The young woman answered as honestly as humanly possible. They asked if she knew what the reason might be for her lack of sleep. She answered with a snarky quip and was popped on the hand with a ruler in response.

"Sorry. It's just- hard. My father- like most, is...away. Serving the country. It's only my mother and I, and we have a lot of things to take care of with the house, and the Church-"

Lorraine stopped herself, remembering last weekend's bake sale.

She could see Ed's hazel eyes blazing in her mind. The way he'd looked at her when he'd seen her crying made her heart flutter. He had been so kind, and his touch had been so gentle. She had seen in it a new way of life: she could hear the laughing of happy children ringing in her ears. Their children.

"Miss Moran?" the nurse questioned.

"Hm?"

"I think you should go home and try to get some rest."

"Okay."

"I'll be speaking to your mother about these so-called bouts of insomnia. Perhaps she'd be better equipped to clue me in on what's going on with you."

"Okay."

Lorraine's mother picked her up in the vehicle. It was pouring rain. Her mind was swirling with thoughts.

"You're not sleeping again."

"No, not well," she admitted. Her thoughts drifted back to Ed.

Her mother sighed. "I wish you'd talk to me. I- I miss your father. I know he was harsh with you sometimes, but I know that if he were here, he would kiss your forehead and tell you that he loves you."

Lorraine's thoughts drifted to the war.

"Lorraine?"

"Hm?"

"Please, say something. Anything."

She could feel fresh tears escaping her eyes. "I'm sorry. It's just- I'm so tired," she sobbed, glancing at her mother. "I'm getting them again."

Her mother missed her turn. "What?" a car behind them honked as she started to drive a little slower.

"The visions. They won't stop. They keep coming...a mile a minute. Some are about you-" she paused, "Others are about father, and about the war. Quite a few of them are about Ed," she stated simply, considering the last one that just flittered through her mind's eye.

"We need to tell someone about this, Lorraine."

She choked. "I don't want to be sent away. But I'm scared, mother. I'm so scared," she whimpered, shrinking in her own skin. "I keep seeing this figure- it's a nun, but...she's not like anyone I've ever seen before. Her eyes- they're yellow. Not like a pretty sunflower yellow...like, a disgusting, putrid yellow...she frowns at me, then screams. She's dark, mother. Not like anything I've seen before," she parroted.

"Lorraine, stop this. You need to stop thinking like this-"

"I can't help it!" she screamed as her mother sped into the driveway.

Mrs. Moran's face was unreadable. "I love you, Lorraine. I want what is best for you. I'm not going to send you away," she paused, "but I think it would be a good idea for you to go without seeing Ed for a while."

"But, mother-"

"Don't argue. You've told me he's a nice young man and I'm not going to dispute that, but if these-- premonitions-- are stronger around him, then perhaps you should go without seeing him right now."

"Mother, please-"

"Just stop!"

They pulled into the driveway, her mother slamming on breaks. Lorraine wished she could melt into the seat and never be seen again. She loved Ed, and hated the strain of fighting with her mother. They had been close, at least before her father left.

As soon as supper was over, Lorraine disappeared to her room, suffocating under the pressure that laid on her chest. Tears sprung from her eyes as she crawled into the bed. The young woman pulled the covers over her head, blinking to try and fend off the tears. She had just started to dose off before hearing a firm knock at the door.

Lorraine forced herself out of the bed. She tracked carefully to the edge of the stairs, keeping low to the ground so that her mother couldn't see her.

Her hand shot to her mouth. Her heart pounded, and she wondered if her mother heard her gasp.

Ed was standing at the door, looking flustered in his schoolclothes.

Georgianna spoke with him for a few moments before turning him away. Lorraine fought the urge to yell at her, knowing that he must have asked to see her.

She sighed, turning to creep back into her room.

Lorraine sat on the bed glaring forlornly at the floor, wondering what to do with this sudden spurn of free time. She had spent so much time with Ed that they had become like a well-oiled machine, and she felt like less of a human being without him.

She cast at the door. I suppose I could go sit with Mother, although I'm sure she's fed up with me.

An object that was louder than the pouring rain rapped against her window.

Lorraine ran to it, then stared outside it aprehensively.

"Ed?"

He'd thrown a rock at her window.

She poked her head outside in a disgruntled fashion. "Ed? What are you doing here?" she whispered.

He fumbled awkwardly in the rain. "I-- I guess I just really wanted to speak with you."

She glanced at the door. "You should come up."

"Wha-- how would I even?"

"Just climb up the drain pipe. I climb down it all the time."

He sighed. She pulled away, waiting.

A few minutes later, his hand appeared on her windowsill, and she grabbed it, helping him in.

He smiled, sitting beside her on the bed.

She glanced down at her hands, feeling momentarily lost for words. "I- I've not been sleeping well," she admitted, pulling at the collar of her nightgown. Ed had been courting her for a week, and she still hadn't mustered up the courage to tell him about her clairvoyancy.

"Is, uh- is anything else bothering you? You seem really quiet..."

"Mother...she doesn't want me to see you anymore," she paused, thinking of what she could say to benefit her mother and Ed without telling Ed about her visions. "She said she thinks I'm spending too much time with you."

"Oh. Well...I think she may be right."

Lorraine glared at Ed like he was a deranged lunatic. "What?" He asked.

"So, what, you're not worried...about us...not seeing each other for that long...about me being away...in my state of mind?"

"You're a perfectly sane person, Lorraine, and so is your mother. I think she's right. Getting into a new routine might just be what you need."

"But what about you? I don't want you to be alone."

"I have a family, Lorraine. They're not perfect by any means, but I love them."

"I just-- I'll really miss you."

Ed sighed. "You make some things harder than they have to be, Lorraine Moran."

She frowned. "I'm sorry, Ed-"

"Don't worry about it," he said, bringing the palm of his hand to her back gently. Her skin tingled. "It's one of the things I like about you."

"I know a place can go, to be together," she blurted, before she really realized what she had said.


	5. 5

Lorraine had never felt anything like it before. "Oh, Lord," she sighed, as if uttering a prayer.

Something bad was in that house. Lorraine could tell by the way her skin tingled that something in the house was evil. It made her shiver visibly; even Ed seemed to be alerted to this change and was keeping a close eye on his girlfriend.

Lorraine and her mother had visited their cousin Clarice before. She was a stout, red-headed woman with a no-nonsense attitude and a loud voice that invaded Lorraine's thoughts.

She knocked on her aunt's door, hoping to the Lord above that older woman wouldn't question the situation.

When she received no answer, she turned to Ed, steading herself against him. "We should check the barn."

Ed watched as Lorraine took the lead, peering around the corner of the open barn. Inside were five stalls. In one was Clarice. She had given the horses water and now patted one of them, observing how the animal drank.

"Would you like to come see the horses, Lorraine?"

The couple paused.

"No use hiding. I know you're there. I had a silly hunch I was going to get some visitors soon." She turned around, facing the two teenagers. "I don't know why you're here, but you know you're welcome to stay as long as you'd like," when neither of them moved, she switched to, "C'mon, come see the horses. I'm sure they've missed you."

"They've been quite a mess lately," she admitted, "I haven't had much time to care for them entirely, given the current circumstances," she held a hand to her swollen womb.

One of the horses whinnied. Lorraine shivered, glancing up at the dark-haired Clydesdale. "Hello, Midnight," she said, reaching up to stroke his nose. He swung his head back and forth in annoyance.

"He's been acting rather odd in the past week," she muttered, shaking her head. "Course, you know Rain," she said, gesturing towards the smaller paint. Her gaze drifted to Ed, and she began to introduce herself, seeing as though Lorraine "didn't have the proper manners to do so herself".

Lorraine had distracted herself, examining the mare closely and looking for the scars that marked her legs. They had faded to light pink, and some of the hair had grown back over the wounds. Clarice must've noticed this; she promptly informed her cousin of the still-broken fence.

"I've had to keep them in here most of the time, or else she'll get all banged up on the wire again."

"You haven't fixed it?"

"We had no time. Jonathan left...too quickly."

"I could fix it for you," he placed a hand on Lorraine's shoulder. "I mean, we're here because we need a place to stay, and we may as well help while we're at it."

"I might have to take you up on that one. I hate leaving these three in the barn all the time-- it makes cleaning up around here that much harder. Since you're here, though, why don't we go in and get a cup of tea?" Clarice asked, taking her cousin's hand.

"I like tea," Lorraine replied rather enthusiastically, glancing back at Ed. When she started towards the house, however, her stomach began to churn. She gulped, feeling vomit at the back of her throat, knowing that if she closed her eyes, she would see something she really didn't want to see. The world was swirling for a moment, and she swore that she would pass out, before she did exactly that.

She was splashed with water once more, but instead of meeting Ed's reassuring gaze, she met Clarice's fretful expression.

"Are you alright?" Clarice questioned, knowing little of Lorraine's current state. Mrs. Moran had only told Clarice of Lorraine's persistent bouts of "insomnia", and not of the visions that kept her awake at night.

"I'm fine," she lied. The house was making her crazy. Even as she spoke the kindly woman, she could spot another figure standing at the door, waving at her like a child.

She had to tell someone before this place killed her. It was already apparent that whatever apparition was present was messing with her, and would probably continue to do so until she either went mad or spilled the beans.

"I think...I think I need to go freshen up," she admitted, directing herself to the restroom. Clarice looked unconvinced, but said nothing.

Lorraine busted into the bathroom and began studying herself in the mirror. She flinched. Her skin was yellowing...there were dark bags under her eyes...and behind her, holding a knife, was a wrinkled, old man.

Her mouth fell open. Her hands raised to her face, trying to block out the image, but it was still there, as if it was trying to burn a hole through her head. Tears flowed from tired eyes, and she sobbed violently.

She couldn't do this alone. Lorraine needed someone to believe her, but she hardly knew how to explain herself...what would she say, anyways? Hey, cuz, I don't want to alarm you, but I think your house might possibly be haunted...Ed and Clarice would deem her as a lunatic.

What little food had been in her stomach came up, much to her dismay, and she rushed to scrub the floor before anyone noticed.

Unfortunately for her, Clarice walked in on a flushed, muttering teenage girl who was scrubbing linoleum until her fingers bled. "Oh, Lorraine, don't worry about that. Perhaps you should change and go lay down," she chided gently, beckoning her to follow.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, wiping her eyes. "I'm really, really tired."

"You go on. I can take care of this," she said, taking the dirty rag from Lorraine's hand.

Lorraine stumbled down the hallway, feeling an overwelming need for rest. The constant whispering was making her dizzy, and she didn't want to pass out again.

She plopped down on the couch, letting the soft fabric of blankets take her into imaginary arms. Lorraine sighed. Clarice walked behind her, massaging her shoulders. "I really am sorry," she managed, taking her cousin's hand in her own.

However, the hand was not Clarice's. If it hadn't been for the distant echo of the woman's voice, she never would've realized that it was Ed who held her hand.


	6. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to Gage. I love ya, kid. Maybe someday you'll enjoy horror films as much as I do.

Lorraine slept. It was only for an hour (a very fitful hour), but it was an hour of sleep nonetheless.

She woke to the popping and scratching of a vinyl that was playing "You Are My Sunshine." The smell of bacon and eggs wafted down the hallway, and she travelled towards the smell urgently. "Clarice?"

"Yes, darling, I'm in here," she said, pushing the eggs around in a frying pan on the stove.

She wanted to offer to make some tea, then realized that there were already tea cups sitting on the table. "You feeling okay, Clare?" she asked, pulling a chair from the table.

"I'm alright, dear, how about yourself?"

Lorraine glanced at the door. There was a little boy staring at her hungrily. She ignored him. "My morning's been alright."

"You slept, then?"

"If you could call it that," she replied rather bluntly.

"Well, I'm sorry that you're not sleeping well, but I will need your help with the horses. They need to be fed and groomed, and their stalls need to be mucked out. Your mother called already; the boy called Ed is coming over to help with the fence."

Lorraine snorted her tea. "What?"

"Your friend, Ed-- he's coming over."

"But, I thought--"

"Your mother was insistent on keeping him away, but I told her it would be of no use. When I came into your room last night, you were muttering his name like a parrot."

She blushed, suddenly remembering the vision she had the night before. "You didn't have to do that. I mean, he's a nice boy and everything, but I--"  
"I know what your mother said. Frankly, I think it's a load of horse hockey. You need to be around people your age, not around older folks like myself."

"You're not old," Lorraine chided, smiling at Clarice lovingly.

"Don't be sucking up to me girl," she warned her. Her tone was serious, and for a moment Lorraine was surprised. Clarice grinned back. "I know you better than that. You try to be all prim and proper and all this," she said, waving her arms, "but down inside, you're a fire," she mused.

The two had a good breakfast, and Clare gave the younger woman a pair of clothes better suited for cleaning stalls and bathing horses.

"I'll take Rain and Midnight to the north end of the pasture," she told the older woman. "I'll just have to keep an eye on em' until Ed gets here to fix that fence."

"You sure you wanna take Midnight?" her cousin questioned. "He's been quite the brute lately."

"Well, forgive me if I'm being rather blunt, but I'm not sure you're in much of a position to argue," Lorraine said, indicating Clare's current state.

"I'll take Pandora, then."

Lorraine nodded. She was more familiar with Midnight and Rain; she hadn't visited since Pandora was born and would've been surprised if the yearling paid any attention to her. She pulled a bridle over Rain's head easily; the mare was calm and friendly with Lorraine even after all these years. The young horse followed easily as well, and Lorraine pulled an apple slice from her pocket as a reward.

"Here you go," she muttered, holding the palm of her hand flat against the horse's nose. Rain crunched the apple happily.

A shadow moved in the corner of her eye. Lorraine turned, noticing that Midnight had started to follow her. Something stopped the massive Clydesdale from continuing on the route; his ears were bent downwards and he whinnied nervously.

"C'mon, Midnight, you know me," she said, patting the animal's cheek. "C'mon, big boy, let's go," she took his nose and pinched the bottom of his chin, pulling gently. His eyes were wild as he shook his head again, showing his great big teeth.

"What's got you so worked up?" she wondered aloud, rubbing his broad shoulder. He calmed a little, but refused to move.

"Hey, what's the hold up?" Clare asked, stopping Pandora. The wiry blue horse whinnied excitedly.

"Something's got Midnight spooked," she warned, stroking the stallion.

"Here, let me try," she said, patting his buttock. She walked backwards in front of the stallion, cooing to him. She was just barely out of distance from him when he reared, frightening Clarice and throwing Lorraine backwards into the mud.

"Lorraine!" she hollered, kneeling to check the spot where Midnight's hoof met the girl's forehead.

Lorraine squinted. Her vision was blurry for a moment and she wiped the blood from her forehead. She cursed. "He got me good," she muttered, sounding dazed.  
"Come on now, let's get you inside. Your mother will kill me if you get trampled by a horse," she paused, hearing a vehicle pulling into the driveway. "I'll bet that's Ed. You know if he has any experience with horses?" she asked.

"I-- don't know, you need to ask him, maybe he could get Midnight settled down," she responded, grinning awkwardly. Heck, he could get me settled any day, her conscience quipped.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Ed questioned, keeping his distance from the obviously irritated horse. He instantly regretted his question when he noticed the sizeable dent on Lorraine's forehead. His demeanor changed immediately; he bent down and cradled his girlfriend's head, wiping away the blood with the hem of his shirt.

"I- I've got a massive headache..." she muttered, trying to sit up.

"I'll take Pandora back to her stall and call the doctor. Can you get her up to the house?" Clare asked.

"Yeah, I got her." He glanced up at Midnight. "What are you doing to do about him?"

"I'll leave him here for now," she said, sighing. "No one's going to be able to move him if he's acting like this, but I doubt he'll run off."

Ed wished they could move the horse, but at the moment, Lorraine was more important. "Easy now," he told her, lifting her up out of the mud.

She wobbled. "My head--"

"He hit you pretty hard," Ed explained, letting her lean on his shoulder as they walked. He wanted to pick her up and carry her to the house, but he was afraid that his gesture would make the situation more awkward.

"He's not normally like that, Ed."

"Something's got him spooked, that's for sure. If Pandora wasn't behind him, he probably would've kicked me, too."

Lorraine laid on the couch. Ed took a folded blanket and shook it out, laying it across her rather gingerly. He then retrieved a cloth from the sink, dampened it with cool water, and laid it over her bleeding head.

"Ed, I've got something really important to tell you," she managed.

"Yes, Lorraine?"

"I see dead people."


	7. 7

The doctor gave Lorraine some ointment for her head and a pill that was supposed to calm her, easing the pain of her concussion. They were told to keep her down as much as possible within the next day or two.

Lorraine had rarely been sick as a child. Her mother's medicine cabinets remained untouched for the most part by the entire family, unless a serious accident had occurred. Therefore, she was completely unprepared for the effects the pill might have had on her.

"You have the prettiest eyes I've ever seen," she said, staring up at Ed lovingly.

"I'm sure I do," he replied, blushing.

Clarice seemed worried. "Do you think we should call the doctor back for her?"

"I'm no doctor," Ed began, "but I know it's not unusual for some to have adverse effects to certain medications. The doctor gave my mother a pill once that made her rather loopy. It can be somewhat embarrassing, but she should be fine if we make sure she doesn't hurt herself."

Clare sighed. "Well, perhaps you should come on, then. Lorraine wouldn't want you to see her like this if she knew what she was doing."

The young woman didn't seem to realize that they were speaking about her until Clarice suggested that Ed leave. "Oh, no," she said, pulling on the hem of Ed's shirt. "I need you here," she begged, putting great emphasis on the word "need."

Ed couldn't refuse. "If you don't mind, I think I'll stay with her."

Clare looked on but would not object.

The longer they were alone, the more awkward the conversation seemed to get. "You know, you seem like a nice guy, but I'm not sure I'm ready for marriage yet," she told him after Clarice had left.

He blushed, but didn't respond, and Lorraine was silent for a moment. This silence gave way to a bit of comfort. Ed started to think that the girl had fallen asleep, yet he was not so lucky.

"Do you like children, Ed?"

"I- I guess. They're really honest, I know that much."

"I think that's part of why I love them. They're not like you and me, they're rather...honest," she said, twirling a lock of chocolate hair between her fingers. "When I grow up, I want to have lots of babies," she smiled sweetly.

"That's nice," he said, resisting the urge to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"I really like the name Judy," she told him. "I think it'd be quite pretty for a little girl, don't you?"

"Yeah, it's beautiful," he agreed.

She paused. "Ed?"

"Yes, dear?"

"I'm tired," the muttered, trying to suppress a yawn.

"How about I go check on Clare while you take a little nap, okay?"

Her blue eyes were like those of a whining pup. "I don't want you to leave," she moped, reaching for his hand. "I want you to stay here. Sit with me, Ed," she pleaded.

He smiled. "Okay."

Lorraine settled down a bit. Eventually, her eyes fluttered, her lips pursed, and she gave in to the calm of sleep. Ed sat on the edge of the bed until he saw her chest rise and fall gently, and yet he still couldn't bring himself to leave her side.

When Clare found them, Ed had fallen asleep and was leaning up against the rear bed post. He looked miserably uncomfortable, but hardly stirred.

She crept into the room as quietly as she could, hoping to wake the boy.

"Ed, sweetheart, you should come on to bed," she told him, shaking him carefully.

"Hm?" he muttered, opening his eye groggily.

"She's asleep. You should go to the couch," she advised. He nodded, realizing that he was still sitting on the bed where Lorraine had fallen asleep. He moved to the couch, and dozed off again soon thereafter.

The house was peacefully quiet for the first time in a long time, if only for a couple of hours.

Ed felt something crawling over his face.

He jumped, howling like a madman. There had been a large spider crawling across his head, eyeing him like a lion watches it's prey.

"Ed, Hon, are you alright?" Clarice had asked, waddling into the living room.

"There's a spider-- there was a spider crawling over my face," he stuttered shakily.

Clare swore that she had never seen a boy so afraid of spiders. She promised Ed that they would find the tricky arachnid; they never found it, and Ed thought he might be going insane.

"What's going on in here?" Lorraine questioned, stepping into the living room. Her face flushed red upon seeing Ed, whom she'd babbled to only hours before.

"Ed swears he found the biggest spider in the world in my living room, but we can't seem to find the nasty rascal."

 Lorraine froze.  
Ed noticed her change in demeanor; it was so similar to change he had seen the day he met her. Although he did not presently understand this change, his expression was filled with concern for her.

"Lorraine?"

"It's here."

"What--"

"It's here...on the wall...behind you."

"What are you talking about?" Clarice questioned, her voice rising with fright.

"The spider is on the wall, behind your head."

Ed saw nothing.

"Maybe you should go lay down..."

"I don't want to lay down!" she cried, pushing away from them. "I want you to see what I see. I want you to understand what it feels like to be scared every moment of your life, from the time you were twelve, when you saw something and nobody believed you. I need you to believe." Lorraine sobbed. She picked at her fingernails.

Clare yearned to comfort her younger cousin, yet she was scared out of wits for her.

Ed edged closer to her, brushing her arm. "C'mon," he said, guiding her to the guest bedroom. "Let's all sit down, then maybe you can explain what's going on."

Lorraine insisted on talking to Ed first, alone.

"I have something to tell you--"


	8. 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, I've been updating two stories recently and made a bit of a mistake. I believe it was MarvelMeta who pointed it out to me in the comments, and I thought I fixed it, but apparently I did not. This is what happens when you take on writing and college, folks! Anyways, I'm not complaining, as I love updating this story for y'all, I just want to apologize for the mishap. Thanks, MarvelMeta. I hope you all enjoy!

"A few years ago, my mother was admitted to the hospital...she'd broken her leg after a car crash that her and my father had been in. I was worried sick for her. They told me she'd be okay, and that I could come to see her, so my father brought me that evening after I had finished my homework."

"It was standing next to a little boy's bed. An angel. At first, when I saw it, I thought I was going crazy. That maybe the stress had gone to my head and was making me see things. In the room next to mother's, there was a little boy who had fallen from Lord knows what...his head was bandaged up pretty well, and his leg was in a splint. This angelic being was stroking his cheek gently, as if to give him some reassurance that he would be okay...and then it stopped."

"It stopped, and looked right at me."

"I tried to tell my Mom, and I think she wanted to believe me, but-- she just didn't understand that I wasn't joking this time, that I really meant what I said..." Lorraine's voice started to break.

"The nurses said nothing, but I could tell by the looks on their faces that they didn't want to have anything to do with me. They were scared, Ed," she looked up at him with tears speckling her eyes. "They looked at me like I had some sort of disease."

"I eventually found out that the boy had fallen out of a tree, and wasn't supposed to be on that floor for much longer. They had taken him there to fix his leg. The blow to his head was the greater risk. I heard them say that he wouldn't survive, but I almost wonder if that's true...I keep thinking that he could've gone to Heaven, and that's why the angel was there, but something in my gut tells me that he survived."

"I quickly learned that no one could ever understand what I saw, not even the Priest. I kept my mouth shut after being chided for trying to warn a woman I highly considered to be the kindest person I ever met," her gaze darkened. "Her child died that year."

"I saw something else--something beautiful...when I met you. You-- you make me feel like I should be telling you this even though I hardly know a thing about you and you probably think I'm crazy, or looking for attention..."

"I believe you," he said.

"What?" she replied, her voice edged with disbelief.

"When I was a boy, I saw something...a spirit of some sort, hiding under my bed. It's hair was gray and stained with blood--" he stuttered, letting the words spill out of his mouth. "I tried to tell my father...he only pushed me back into my room and told me to face my fears," his breath hitched in his throat, as if this statement was the most absurd thing he had ever heard. "In the end, it was driven away, I assume by my prayers."

She glared at him, judging his expressions carefully. Her gaze was hurt. She whimpered, "Are you making fun of me?"

"I swear, I'm not," he rebutted swiftly. "If you trust anyone, then please, let it be me," he begged, taking her hand in his. Her face was flushed with color.

"Ed, there's something evil in this house."

"What?"

"Something is stalking me. I saw a woman at the doorway when I first got here. Then, there was a man in the restroom holding a bloodied knife," she explained, gripping his hand fearfully. "When I went to breakfast this morning, a boy was there, staring at me and asking for food. I didn't know what to do."

"Are they speaking to you?"

"Hardly. When we came in after I got kicked, I heard a woman's voice in my ear. She was talking to a man called Norman."

He froze. "Do you know anyone called Norman?"

She shook her head. "I don't, but Clare might," she remarked thoughtfully. "How are we going to tell her?" he asked. "She doesn't know about my visions. She'll think I'm badly injured or insane."

"We don't have to tell her," he said. "In fact, it would probably be safer if she didn't know. We can just act like we're curious about the history of the place. If we find out anything unusual about it, we can go from there and decide if we need the Priest."

Lorraine shrugged. "How are we going to get Father Gordon out here without alarming Clare?"

"We'll figure out a way, I promise. In the meantime, it's really late. Maybe we should get some rest."

Lorraine glanced at the clock on the wall. It read eleven o'clock. She yawned, feeling suddenly tired.

They came out of the room like nothing was wrong. Clarice seemed a bit irritated at the fact that they had been together so long, and insisted on knowing what kind of conversation had taken place between the two.

"Nothing serious, Ed just had a bad dream, and I'm still kinda getting over whatever the doctor gave me."

Clare didn't seem convinced, yet was too tired to argue.

They waited until she had left the room to say goodnight to each other.

"Goodnight Ed," she said, staring down at her bare feet.

"Sleep well, Lorraine," he said, calling her by her first name only. She smiled.

They started to walk away from each other and go to separate rooms. Lorraine carried a suffocating feeling in her chest; it seemed as though the words forced themselves out of her mouth.

"Ed, please stay with me," she muttered.

He looked surprised.

"I--I just want someone in the same room with me right now. My head is spinning after our talk, and I'm afraid something's going to crush me in my sleep."  
"I'll stay with you," he replied, in a somewhat awkward manner. "Where do you want me?"

"I'll pull a mattress in here. One of us can sleep on it. You-- you can pick first."

"I- I think you should take the mattress." He said, thinking that it might be the more comfortable option.

Fifteen minutes later, Ed was laying on the mattress in the floor. Lorraine took the couch after a slightly heated argument over who should be more comfortable than the other. "You're the guest," she grumbled. "You should get the mattress."

Ed would do anything to please her. He could care less about who got the mattress; he had a perfect view of the most beautiful being he had ever laid eyes on.


	9. 9

No further convincing was needed after Clarice woke up screaming another hour later.

"What's the matter?" Ed asked, running to the room at full speed, with Lorraine in tow.

"There was a man in the room!"

They both knew that it had to have been an apparition, yet Ed took to checking the windows just in case it wasn't. "There's no one in here," he told Lorraine, who had busied herself with calming Clarice down.

"What did you see?" she asked her.

"There was a man standing over my bed, holding a knife. It looked just like Norman Tyler!"

"Who is Norman Tyler?"

"He's the landlord. Johnathan and I have been renting this place from him since we were married. His wife passed away right before you got here; I haven't seen him since."

Lorraine seemed alarmed. "You stay here," Ed told her, "I'm gonna go check this place out--"

"I can't let you do that," Lorraine said, trying to follow him.

"Lorraine, your cousin is frightened. She needs someone to stay with her--"

"But you don't know the land like I do, Ed. If something's out there, you're not going to see it. I don't want you to get hurt."

Ed sighed, knowing that there was no way he'd talk Lorraine down. "Fine. Just make sure Clare knows that we plan to go out."

"What am I going to tell her?"

He paused, "Tell her that we're going to check outside and make sure that nothing's been touched. Tell her that if we're not back within a half hour, she needs to call the sheriff."

"I don't want to scare her."

"Then don't. Just tell her what I told you. Everything will be fine."

Lorraine did as she was told. Clare didn't argue, but advised that the two stay close together in the event that something bad happened. "We will. If we're not back within half an hour, you can call the sheriff for us."

"Please be careful," she told Lorraine. "If your mother finds out that I let you alone with that boy and something happened, she'd have my hide."

Lorraine nodded. "I'll be fine," she assured, sounding more like she was talking to herself than Clarice.

The two left on horseback. Lorraine advised that they take Rain. Even though she was smaller than Midnight, she was much obliged to take a stranger on her back.

"Have you ridden before?" she asked, putting a bridle on the horse.

"Hardly."

"I'll lead."

The idea might've seemed quite amusing, but they would definitely make time quicker on horseback. They galloped down the back yard towards Norman's house; Ed knocked on the door but received no answer.

Lorraine pulled herself off the horse. She crept over to one of the little windows on the house and peeked in.

Everything was dark; she saw nothing.

"Lorraine," Ed whisper-called, "There's a shed out back. It's open."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asked, pulling away from the window.

"I guess that depends on what we're looking for."

"I should be able to tell on approach if there's something in the shed," she informed him.

Rain stayed put. Ed and Lorraine crept around to the shed, doing their best to avoid mud from the consistent showers they had in the past few days. When they got there, Lorraine grew faint. "Are you okay? Do you feel anything?"

"She's speaking to me. I think we need to go inside," she said, wobbling towards the wooden structure.

Ed grabbed her hand. "Careful," he took her waist in one arm, helping her into the little shed.

"Oh, goodness..." she sighed, holding her nose.

"What is that?" Ed asked, his voice muffled.

"It smells like death," she commented, climbing up a ladder into the higher loft. A gray cat hissed at her and she jerked away, nearly falling.

"Cat?" Ed questioned.

"Yeah." The dark figure stalked away. Blood dripped from its muzzle. "It's killed something," she said, pulling herself into the hay-filled loft.

"Probably just a mouse."

Lorraine shifted in the loft. The hay moved along with her, and she grew puzzled upon seeing something white underneath. She extended a hand out to the mound of hay gingerly; when she pulled a bundle from it, a disturbing image could be seen underneath.

She stopped herself just short of a scream, placing her hands over her mouth. Her voice came out in gags and sobs. Lorraine turned to Ed with eyes as round as saucers, muttering something incomprehensible.

"What's wrong?" he asked, pulling himself towards her.

"There's a body in the hay," she cried, leaning into him.

"What?"

"There's a skull up there...with flesh still attached."

"Are you sure?"

"I felt it, Ed, it's on my hands--" she lifted her usually graceful hands towards him. Specks of blood stuck to her cheeks and palms.

"We need to get out of here," he said, "call the police."

Her eyes darted to the door. "Ed...look..."

The shadow of Norman Tyler could be seen at the door of the shed. In his hands was a rusted shovel.

 

\---

"They went out a little over a half an hour ago. I thought I'd seen a man standing in my bedroom, and I suppose they thought that it'd be good to check around the house. They told me that if I didn't see them again in thirty minutes, I should call you."

"And you're sure this isn't some sort of prank?"

"Oh, no, officer. Lorraine would never do anything like that."

"And the boy?"

"He seems to be quite the gentleman. I don't believe he's pulling my leg, either."

"And you thought it would be a good idea to leave these two alone together?"

"Lorraine didn't want Ed to go alone. I can't say I blame her. If something happened to him, we would both be stuck."

The deputy sighed. "I'll go check around your house for anything out of the ordinary. Frankly, I'm sure the children will be back by morning. They're probably just making out in the barn," he muttered under his breath.


	10. 10

Ed and Lorraine clung to each other like wet clothes to dry skin.

He had seen them already. Norman was eyeing both of them, deciding what to do with the two delincuentes he found in the shed's loft.

"What do you call yourselves?" he began to ask, before changing his tone quickly. "Nevermind. It doesn't matter." The tired landlord lumbered towards them, shovel in hand.

Neither of the teenagers knew what to say. Ed opened his mouth as if to say something, then clamped in shut promptly.

Mr. Tyler started to climb the rickety structure. The two feared that they were done for. He brandished the shovel against Ed like a baseball bat, and the young man dodged him, yet still managed to keep himself between Lorraine and the offender.

Lorraine, seeing that they were in danger, reached behind her to feel for a pitchfork she had noticed hanging on the wall. Norman went to swing the shovel at them again- Ed stopped him midblow with the pitchfork.

Metal clanged against metal, and Norman hollered in resistance. "She was an old hag who deserved to die," he said.

"That wasn't your decision to make," Ed quipped. He pushed against the man, but Mr. Tyler was heavier, and pushed back with such force that Ed fell, knocking his head against the splintered wall.

"Ed!" Lorraine put herself in front of him protectively, taking the pitchfork from his hands and using it in the same way she'd seen him do.

"You're no match for me, girl," he drawled.

"I might not be," she admitted. Beads of sweat formed on her brow. "Mrs. Tyler is, though."

As soon as she had spoken, Norman Tyler began to cry out in terror. Lorraine waited until the man's guard was down before she pushed him from the loft.

His body hit the ground with a thud. The shed itself was not very tall-- Ed checked the man's pulse and revealed that he was unconscious but still breathing.

"We need to go to the sheriff," Lorraine said, throwing the pitchfork down. The two ran out of the shed to see that the sheriff was already there.

They explained the situation to him carefully. Although he doubted that the children had any reason to lie, he still had a job to do, or so he told them. He came out of the shed exclaiming that it was like nothing he had ever seen; the deputy walked a now-conscious Norman to the sheriff's vehicle.

All three of them were brought in for questioning. It was almost noon before the trio were allowed to leave the sheriff's office, and they were all incredibly tired from the investigation.

"I should have never let you three go snooping around," Clarice admitted harshly. Her expression lightened. "I am proud that you had a part in that nasty man's going to jail...although, I'm not sure what it'll mean for me," she admitted fretfully.

"You could come stay with us," Lorraine chimed. "At least, until you can arrange for your own place."

"I could board the horses for you," Ed encouraged. "My family has plenty of space for them until you get yourself a place."

Clarice seemed unaware of how to respond to the children-- her hands were tied and she felt as though she got more than she bargained for.

The three grew slightly snappy at each other until they finally decided it was time for some sleep. Lorraine still had a good four days to spend with Clarice, and she wanted to be the most helpful version of herself in those four days.

It was becoming a continuous trial for Ed and Lorraine that sleep would not be taken-- it was given. God still had something for them yet, and they would not get proper sleep until it was finished.

Clarice had started to crave pickles in the middle of the night. She went to the icebox and pulled the jar out, trying not to wake the sleeping fellow on the couch.

"Can't sleep?" Lorraine asked, peering at her from around the corner.

"Cravings," Clare muttered, offering her cousin a pickle.

Lorraine shook her head. "No, thank you," she said, instead turning to the kettle to make some tea.

"I'm so proud of you, Lorraine. I don't know how you and that boy did it, but I feel much safter now that you have. I don't care if I have to move; Jonathan will find me. I'm just grateful that everything's alright, that's all."

Lorraine smiled. "Do we have to tell Mom about this?" she asked.

Clare shrugged. "That's still up for debate, sweetheart." She reached out to the tea cup in front of her and went to take a sip-- her hand shook and Lorraine watched as the cup slipped from her fingers, crumbling to a million pieces on the floor.

"My word," Lorraine exclaimed, rushing to clean up the porcelain shards.

The floor was wet.

"Clare?"

The woman's face was pale. "Lorraine, we need to get to the doctor-- as soon as possible. The baby's coming," she muttered, lifting a hand to her swollen womb.

"Ed-- Ed, wake up!"

The boy blinked droggily. "Hm?"

"Clarice went into labor. We need to get her in the car..."

Ed shot up off of the couch like a rocket. He searched frantically for his keys. "I can't find my keys!" he called, his voice getting more shrill the more nervous he became.

"Take my car," Clare interrupted. "The keys are right here-- I won't feel so bad if it's ruined."

Ed dashed away to the car, and Lorraine snatched her cousin's coat from the mantle. Clarice groaned.

"The car has a flat," Ed stuttered, nearly tripping over the living room rug. "I don't have a spare. Do you have a spare?"

"There is no spare!" Claire yelled in a stressed manner.

"Can't we drive on it anyways?" Lorraine persisted.

"It's bad," Ed warned, guiding his girlfriend over.

It looked as if someone had stabbed the tire with a knife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. I hope you're enjoying the story so far. I feel like this is sort of self-explanatory, but the next chapter contains childbirth. Yeah. So, if that bothers you...you may want to skip ahead a chapter. I am by no means a graphic writer, but I still want to put it out there to avoid making anyone uncomfortable.


	11. 11

Clare gasped.

"What are we going to do?" Ed asked, eyeing her nervously. Lorraine had just informed her cousin that there was no vehicle to drive; Ed's keys were still missing and one of the automobiles' tires had seemingly been punctured by something.

"We'll have to send for a doctor," she said, sitting beside Clare. She grasped the older woman's hand gently. "We could take one of the horses into town, and the doctor could bring whoever goes back in his vehicle."

"Couldn't we take Clarice on horseback?" Ed questioned.

"I don't think that's a good idea, boy," Clarice argued, gritting her teeth. Another contraction overtook her body.

"She's right, putting her on a horse now could be dangerous," she paused, "One of us will have to go into town while the other stays with Clare," she advised. "If I resaddle Rain, can you lead her to town?"

"Don't worry about saddling the horse--" Clarice started, before cutting off her own instructions abruptly. Her expression was twisted with pain. "Rain is a gentle horse; Jonathan used to take her bareback riding for kicks. She should let you ride her that way, if you can stay on."

"I don't see that I have a choice," Ed replied, walking towards the door. "I'll be back with the doctor soon," he assured her, reaching for the doorknob.

"Be safe," Lorraine cautioned.

"I will," he promised, leaving swiftly.

Clarice sat up for a moment. "Lorraine, dear, I need you to do something for me."

Lorraine nodded. "Yes?"

"There are clean towels in the washroom. Get them. There's a foaling kit in the barn-- I want you to get it, bring it inside, and make sure everything inside it is clean, you understand?"

"Clare, the doctor should be here--"

"Please, don't argue, girl. I'm just preparing for whatever might happen."

Lorraine turned on the faucet and wet a cloth with clean, cool water. She gathered the towels as asked, placing them beside the couch. "I'll be right back," she promised, "I'm going to get the kit from the barn, alright?"

Clarice nodded. Lorraine noted that her nails were digging into the fabric of the couch.

Meanwhile, Ed was riding in the rain and reading a map at the same time. He could see lights up ahead-- it was a wonder that he hadn't gotten lost-- and guided the mare in that direction. Her hair was slick with rain water, and he hardly managed to stay on as she galloped towards the lighted area.

He jumped a river and came upon a small, wooden shack. "Hello? Is anyone here?" he called, stopping Rain at the door. Ed slid off her back. He knocked on the door. "Hello?"

A little girl came to the door.

"Hey, uh...is this the doctor's place?" he asked, looking past her to the inside of the dimly-lit cabin.

The girl nodded bashfully. She didn't look much younger than Ed; he figured she was probably close to twelve years. "He's my father. He and my mother aren't home right now-- the Cambridge's called about an hour ago saying that their father was crushed under a horse. Momma went with him to check on Mrs. Cambridge."

"Oh, that's just my luck. I'm a friend of the woman who lives north of here," he told her, "Clarice Downing...she's gone into labor."

The little girl's eyes were wide. "My father has a collegue who runs a medical station about thirty minutes away from here. You could take our other automobile," she said, rushing away to grab the keys.

"Thanks," Ed said, snatching them from her grip and folding himself into the little car. The girl looked startled. "You wanna come with?" he asked, feeling bad about the idea of leaving her alone.

She nodded. He motioned for her to come quickly, and she slipped into the vehicle with graceful ease.

\---

Claire's moans of pain penetrated her cousin's thoughts. Lorraine took the wet cloth from earlier and dabbed at her wet forehead.

"You're doing great," she muttered. The words came out shakier than she intended, and she visibly winced at her poor motivational skills.

"Don't worry," Clare said, "It'll be-- alright. I trust you."

Clarice's confidence was intimidating. "I don't know what to do," Lorraine admitted. "I've never-- I've never seen anyone deliver a child before," she whined, feeling helpless to the situation at hand.

"I'm doing all the work, girl. I just need...emotional support," she replied, only half-joking. "It's okay to be scared," she told Lorraine. "Heck, I'm terrified. I've never done this before, either. But you have to have faith in yourself, and in God, or nothing's ever gonna get done in this life."

Lorraine felt like a burden was being lifted from her shoulders as she listened to Claire's words. Her mind was suddenly clear of all worry- she would be able to focus on the task at hand. "You're right," she stated simply. "We have a job to do...a baby to deliver. Just-- lead the way and I"ll follow," she said, feeling embarrassed at her choice of words.

The time seemed to pass quickly as the two prepared for the delivery of Clarice's child. It wasn't long before it was time for the woman to push, and Lorraine kept watch on her to make sure things were going smoothly.

"You're doing good," Lorraine encouraged, this time with an air of confidence. It wasn't hard to see that Clarice was in immense pain-- she cried out a few times and the younger woman did her best to comfort her. "I think I can see the head."

Clare nodded. "It's about time," she gasped. Her legs wobbled. "It feels like I'm going to split apart," she exclaimed, breathing heavily.

"It's alright, just stay with me, he'll be here soon..."

"How do you know--" she cried out in pain again- Lorraine could see tears flowing down her cheeks. "You think it's a boy?" she asked.

"Yeah," Lorraine shrugged. "Just a hunch."

\---

Ed's eyes drifted to the writhing body in Lorraine's arms. She had just cut the umbilical cord, and the baby was screaming his little lungs out. "We're too late," he said, hearing the doctor come in behind him.

"Well-- seems like that girl of yours has thinks taken care of," he walked over to Lorraine, examining the newborn closely. "Seems like you've done a fine job, dears," he told them, "but I would like to get you and the baby admitted to the center, just to be sure."

Clarice was beaming with pride. In a few short minutes, the three were riding to the hospital, cooing to the child along the way.

"I can't believe you delivered a baby!" Ed exclaimed. His cheeks were flushed from exertion.

"I can hardly believe it myself. I'm just happy that Claire seems okay," she said, watching the woman rock her baby in the front seat.

Ed yawned. "Looks like she's got a lot of work ahead of her." He brought his hand in front of his mouth, trying hard to stifle another yawn.

Lorraine gave a contented sigh and leaned into Ed. Her head rested comfortably in the crook of his chest, and he fought the urge to stroke her head, instead settling for putting his arm around her. "I love you, Lorraine Moran."

She glanced up at him, her weary blue eyes piercing his very being. "I love you, Ed."


End file.
